


Sunglasses

by goth_on_ham



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Bruises, M/M, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-31
Updated: 2017-08-31
Packaged: 2018-12-22 07:48:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11962947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goth_on_ham/pseuds/goth_on_ham
Summary: Mayor Cobblepot visits the GCPD during a heatwave. Jim notices a black eye behind his sunglasses.





	Sunglasses

**Author's Note:**

> I almost missed the deadline...

Oswald arrived at the GCPD early in the morning. He was well turned out, as always, his choice of suit not too dissimilar from the style Jim recalled him wearing when he had first risen to become King of the underworld. 

However, things were different now. He was the Mayor.

It was funny how much would change in a year.

The photographers from the Gazette followed them around as Jim and three other 'lucky’ police officers gave the new Mayor a tour of the station. 

Harvey wasn't there. He had made sure to be conveniently busy during the visit.

At the end of the tour, the other officers left and Jim found himself offering Oswald a coffee. It was only a professional courtesy, and one that was probably expected of him, but he regretted the attempt to be polite as soon as the words had left his mouth. Oswald looked painfully smug, and Jim had to resist the urge to grab him by the lapels, and shake him. It would be just like old times.

Oswald accepted, and Jim suddenly noticed that Oswald hadn't removed his sunglasses once throughout the entire visit.

Jim hadn't thought anything of them at first. It was sunny out, so it wasn't as if Oswald was the only one wearing the protective eyewear. 

Then Oswald turned his head at just the right angle, and Jim caught a glimpse of the skin behind the dark lenses. The area around his left eye was purple and puffy, bruised. 

He supposed it was none of his business. 

But he snatched the glasses off of his face anyway.

“Jim! What do you think you are doing?” 

It looked worse now that Jim could get a proper look at it.

“Who did this to you?” He asked, his hand curling around the gold frame of Oswald's glasses, and his fingers leaving faint smudges on the circular lenses.

Oswald frowned, then slowly, a smile came over his face. He laughed dismissively. “Why the sudden concern, Detective Gordon? You have never truly cared about my well being before, not unless it benefited you in some way.”

Jim supposed he deserved that, but it stung anyway. He shoved the glasses back into Oswald's hands and turned around with a grunt of frustration. 

“Forget it, sorry I asked.”

There was a brief pause, and then the sound of Oswald walking away, the foot of his cane clacking on the floor as he went. 

Jim cursed under his breath.

So much for being nice.

\--

Try as he might, Jim couldn't forget about Oswald's black eye. 

Back when he had been Fish Mooney's umbrella boy, or Maroni's lackey, such a bruise would not be uncommon for Oswald. However, as Mayor, Jim thought Oswald would have been out of reach for most people who might want to punch him in the eye.

“So, how'd it go?”

Harvey showed up about an hour after Oswald had left. Clearly, he had been playing it safe. He had some telltale crumbs in his beard.

“Fine. Uneventful.” Jim muttered, hoping that Harvey would believe that, but doubting that he would.

“Really?” 

Jim sighed. “Yeah.” 

“Was Nygma there with him?”

“No, why?”

Jim knew he was working for Oswald, but he didn't think he'd be overly keen to return to his old workplace after he’d been socked in the jaw by Lee last time.

“Just curious. I hear the two of them are attached at the hip.” Harvey had a mischievous glint in his eye, the kind he often got when he was gossiping. Normally about what people got up to in the bedroom. Jim could usually ignore it, but not this time. He had to admit, he was curious.

“Oh yeah?”

“Pretty freaky, huh? I always thought Penguin was still carrying a torch for you.” 

Jim scoffed. “What?”

Harvey looked at him as if he was crazy for dismissing that notion. “Aw, come on Jim. Don't tell me you never noticed the way he looked at you.”

Jim hadn't noticed for a long time, and by the time he had, he couldn't bear to acknowledge it. Oswald was bad news. He thought it best to ignore him and hope he lost interest.

According to Harvey, he had.

But Oswald with Ed didn't sit well with Jim. After all, Ed had killed his last partner. 

Jim thought back to Oswald's black eye. It was easy for him to paint a picture of how he might have gotten it, but he wouldn't know for sure until he asked him.

\--

Jim was sweating profusely when he rang the manor doorbell. It was due to the unusually muggy weather Gotham had been going through over the past week, but that didn't mean Jim wasn't also a little nervous.

He wasn't scared of Ed, and he certainly wasn't scared of Oswald. He couldn't be, not after knowing them for so long. However, together they could be a very different entity. That he was afraid of. Not so much for himself, but for Gotham.

“Jim.” 

He was surprised that Oswald answered the door and not a maid. He had taken off his jacket, his waistcoat, and his tie. His white shirtsleeves were pushed all the way up to his elbows, and the top two buttons of it were left undone. Jim had never seen him so dressed down. He tried not to stare.

“Oswald. Can I come in?”

“I suppose.” He didn't seem thrilled to see him, unlike in the past when he would practically fall over himself to please him. 

“Thanks.”

Jim was glad to be out of the sun, but he didn't have long to recover from the heat before Oswald asked him why he had come.

“Is Nygma here?” Jim asked, and Oswald rolled his eyes and then gave him a disapproving frown.

“I asked you a question, Jim.”

Jim found that the corner of his mouth wanted to twitch into a smile at that. He wasn't entirely sure why.

“My apologies, Mayor Cobblepot.” He could hear the amusement in his own voice, and Oswald must have too, because his frown deepened. 

“Well?” Oswald prompted.

“It's about your eye.”

Oswald’s head tilted slightly to the side in confusion. Then, realisation flooded over his features, and he snorted. “Is that why you asked if Ed was here?”

Jim hadn't realised he was so transparent. 

“Ed didn't hit me. I had a disagreement with a former employee and he struck me before my men could 'restrain’ him.” 

Jim suddenly felt very foolish. Heat spread across his face, and it wasn't because of the weather. 

“I see.” He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, lowering his gaze so he didn't have to suffer Oswald looking at him like he was a complete idiot. “I’ll be on my way then.”

As he turned to leave, Oswald stopped him. “Did you really come here just for that?”

Jim supposed it did sound a little ridiculous when put so bluntly. Even if Ed had hit Oswald, Jim was homicide, and Oswald wasn't even a friend. He had no reason to get involved. Yet he had felt the need to. 

“I know. Stupid of me. Goodbye, Oswald.” He began to walk to the door, but Oswald stopped him again, this time by grabbing him by the elbow.

“Wait.”

Jim wanted to escape. He was embarrassed at himself, and confused. Maybe it was the heat.

“Even if Ed did hit me… Why should you care about that?”

Jim gritted his teeth together, and he yanked his arm out of Oswald's grip.

“Forget I came.”

“Jim.” 

It was half a command, half a plea, and Jim found it impossible to resist. Oswald's expression softened, and he saw the look that Oswald had so often given him back when they had been 'friends’. 

He wouldn't have called them that, but they had once had a connection. They had been tied together ever since Jim had refused to kill him on the pier.

“Damn it.”

What Jim did next surprised even him. He kissed Oswald Cobblepot on the lips, and Oswald froze, then kissed back.

\--

It turned out that Ed wasn't home. No one was.

Jim was relieved, because what occurred next was noisy and uncompromising and anyone within the house would surely have heard it. 

He supposed it was because they'd waited so long. It had built up inside both of them continuously, never stopping, never slowing down.

His hands ripped open Oswald's shirt, sending buttons flying left and right, and Oswald had no time to complain before Jim started kissing him again. 

His hands moved greedily over the pale, newly exposed skin, and Oswald moaned and arched up into his palms. His body was so fragile seeming when it was bared, faint scars and other marks littered his torso, and Jim wanted to become familiar with each of them over time.

He bit down on the side of Oswald's neck, and Oswald gasped, clinging to him. 

It would leave a bruise, but Oswald could wear a scarf.

This heatwave couldn't possibly last all the way through summer.


End file.
